


Rush You

by tealourry



Category: Larry Stylinson - Fandom, One Direction, ziam - Fandom
Genre: 1d, M/M, larry - Freeform, larry stylinson - Freeform, one direction - Freeform, ziam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-03
Updated: 2014-02-03
Packaged: 2018-01-11 00:32:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1166463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tealourry/pseuds/tealourry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ziam AU: Zayn accepts a job to help with graphic design on the XFactor, where he meets Liam. A boy who he feels he shouldn’t have a crush on, but does.</p><p>Also on Tumblr-->http://larry-larryx.tumblr.com/post/75105957459/rush-you</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rush You

**Author's Note:**

> You can request a oneshot on my Tumblr larry-larryx.tumblr.com/submit
> 
> Please read the guidlines before submitting.

Parents always tell their kids that they can’t write on furniture or the walls, or paint the walls and whatnot. Obviously, at some point in everyones life, we all result-whether accidentally or purposely-to wrecking something. 

Zayn remembers when he was six and his dad walked in on him drawing a boat on the wall in their family room. He got a slap on the wrist and a sent up to his room for an hour or two while his parents fixed it up. When he got older, his love and fondness for art excelled and grew to the point where he almost never really went out. He always had an idea for something new, and stayed after school and occasionally brought his lunch to the art room to finish up or start a project. 

After he graduated, his parents surprised him with a ten by ten foot extension on the house for him to work on whatever he liked. The Uni Zayn had applied to was only a forty minute drive from home and he’d only have to do it a few times a week, so the car he got for his eighteenth birthday was nothing compared to the small studio he was getting. He leapt up and pulled his parents into a bone crushing hug, bouncing on his toes as they told him the contractor would be starting next week, and that it wouldn’t take long to finish.

It didn’t. 

When he was asked about what color he wanted the walls, he basically turned down that entire idea and said to just paint it white. They wouldn’t be pristine for long anyway. That wasn’t a lie, because by the end of the first week of it being in use, the walls were spray painted in several areas, charcoal had been crushed against the windowsill, and he managed to flick some paint onto the ceiling. Zayn was proud of it, and his mum joked about painting it over, while his sisters thought it looked cool. 

He would spend an average of five hours a day in the room and spent a good amount of his money earned from selling his work-which sold easily and surprisingly quick with an account made online-went towards supplies, and books for school. He hoped that people would continue to like his work, and was pretty surprised to see an email in his inbox early one morning towards the middle of October. It was from a set designer that worked on the XFactor, and that was shocking within itself. He said that a colleague had found his work and the overall question of the email was if Zayn wanted to come to London for a few weeks and work on a few sets for the contestants. 

With almost no hesitation, he agreed. This could end up pretty well for him. While most people went on the XFactor to follow their dreams of being a singer, Zayn was going in order to help out, and possibly recruit more buyers. He told his parents, who agreed, his mother warning him to be careful and call them every day. Zayn promised, and with a wave, he was off.

Off to where he was now. 

Zayn learned shortly that it was down to business almost everyday with everyone; it’s not like it bothered him, two days in a row he was given an assignment to create an erie-looking backdrop and another that had a town fading from picture to sketch. It took him a an hour to come up with each idea, and about four to work with the graphics guy for the final scan. 

He was tracked down one day in the middle of breakfast by Chris, the graphics designer he worked with regularly. It had only been about  a month since he started working with him, and this year’s competition was already speeding towards the finale. The talent this year was raw, completely original and incredible, and Zayn was sure that it was the best he’d seen. If you ask around, the staff of course does have favorites, but they never really admit who they’re rooting for. Zayn couldn’t tell you who he wanted to win even if you begged; he was tied up with his thoughts.

"What do you need me for," he’d questioned before Chris had even opened his mouth. 

"How do you know that I need you for something? I could have just joined you for a nice breakfast and catch up on things." He sat back in his chair with his arms crossed.

"Because everyone already started working, it’s half ten, and you brought your laptop and a pad over." Zayn paused, a smirk growing on his lips. "I know you well, my friend."

"Smart ass." Chris opened the Mac up and logged in before heading into one of the programs he’d downloaded. "We need to figure out a good backdrop for Liam’s performance this week." 

Zayn looked at him, chin in hand, and thought. Who was Liam? He wracked his brain for some sort of help but he was drawing a blank.

Rubbing a hand over his face, he said, “Liam…that’s…?”

"The seventeen year-old. Long-ish hair. He tried out a few years ago, too. I’m sure you’ve seen him."

"I think…" Zayn got a slight outline of who the boy was, but other than that he was at a slight loss. "What’d he sing last week?" 

"I forget."

"That helps a lot, Chris. Really, it does."

He snorted and shook his head, passing the pad and a pen to Zayn. “Anyway, he’s singing this week?”

"Something by The Script, I think. What’s that song called? For The First Time, I think." 

Zayn nodded, rolling up his sleeves and revealing his countless tattoos scattered on his arms. “For The First Time, eh…? Maybe, something along the lines of just randomized patterns? Old parchment with dripping ink, a few words scattered round? Y’know?”

For the next few hours the pair worked on the art before they were kicked out of the room. After that, they spent the next two days working on the graphics, almost flipping out from Chris’ computer freezing for an hour. It was finally finished and they premiered it at dress rehearsals the next afternoon.

*

"Alright, Li, from the top. We’re gonna run the graphics with it." 

Zayn sat in the middle of the empty arena, feet kicked up on the seat in front of him as he watched a teenage boy walk out to the middle of the stage. To say the least, he was captivated. The boy was handsome for such a young age, and no, Zayn’s heart rate did  _not_ increase when Liam began signing. Christ, how can someone have such an angelic voice and be barely in the mid-teens. He was meant to pay attention to the screens behind the singer, making sure it wasn’t flipped or weren’t any glitches, but Liam was making it hard to focus. 

What was he thinking, he shouldn’t let his mind wander like that. Liam was seventeen, and Zayn was twenty. Four year age difference, but still, he worked behind the scenes while the younger boy was on the front lines competing. The odds of that even being appropriate-or allowable-were probably slim if we’re being realistic. But he could dream couldn’t he?

"Alright, that was good Liam. I’ll have someone come and get you in a few hours to do one final run-through, got it?"

"Sounds good," he responded.

Zayn bolted from his spot and rushed backstage to Chris who was sitting by the curtain making sure everything was set up.

"Why are you all flustered," he interrogated, looking over Zayn’s red cheeks and zoned-out eyes.

"Hm? Nothing, I was running-"

"-You’re lying-"

"Running. I was running." His eyes grew wide as he over-emphasized, eyebrows arching high.

"Zayn." Chris put his hands firmly on the artist’s shoulders. "I have a perfect view of the audience. I could see you clearly from where I was standing." He paused for a minute, squinting in thought. "Was it Liam?"

"Was what Liam," he shrugged, ignoring his flipping stomach.

"The reason you’re all…teenage girl, goggly-eyed."

"What? No, that’s ridiculous, I-Shut up."

The tech began bouncing on his toes excitedly. “Ah, you’re not denying it! You’re not denying it!”

"Honestly, mate, shut up. It’s unprofessional to have feelings towards the kid-who I really haven’t even met-and he’s four years younger than me."

"So? It’s not like you’re thirty-five and he’s fifteen. Not to mention that practically nothing here besides the choreographers and live shows are professional. So you talking to him or asking him out or something won’t ruin your career. Believe me. You’ll have more leeway."

He gave him a blank, unamused stare. “Would you shut up? I’ve not even talked to him, so what makes you think I’m gonna ask Liam out?”

"Because he’s standing right behind you," Chris shrugged, looking over his shoulder.

Zayn’s eyes widened in panic and spun around quickly just as Chris started laughing.

"Oi! Don’t do that!"

"I’m sorry, but that look was priceless. Almost like you were about to shit yourself."

*

Two nights later Zayn stood with Chris on the side of the stage watching each contestant perform and listen to the feedback from the judges. He had to admit that when Liam stepped out there that his stomach was doing flips, his heart pounding, and the boy got a well-deserved standing ovation. His smile was huge, and you could tell that he was a natural singer and felt comfortable on stage despite his evident nerves. 

And then Liam was walking towards him.

"You did incredible," Zayn managed to get out.

Liam’s smile grew, and  _why_ did he have to squint when he did so? It made him so much cuter. “Thanks.”

Zayn watched as Liam was pulled into a lounge down the hall to relax and regroup while the other contestants performed. 

The show ended a little later than usual due to a few sound difficulties, but it was a success none the less. The boy found himself walking through the carpeted corridors with his hands stuffed in his pockets, trying to find the backlot for a quick smoke. Instead, when he pushed open a door, he collided into a slightly smaller figure.

"Ah, sorry," he muttered. 

"It’s fine, I wasn’t watching where I was going."

It was Liam.

Zayn swallowed thickly. “My fault, really.” He noticed the slightly distressed look on the teen’s face. “Are you alright?”

Liam blinked. “Hm? Yeah…Just, I’ve got stuff on my mind, y’know?”

He nodded. “Welcome to reality. Everything hits you at once and it’s all utter shit.”

The boy laughed and-was it appropriate to fall in love from a mere chuckle? Was it possible? Because Zayn swore that just happened.

"I was just heading outside for a walk…I know it’s late and you probably wanna get your beauty sleep, but wanna come along?"

The light in the younger boy’s brown eyes became evident even from a mile away. Whatever was on his mind seemed to fade, and all thoughts of going back to the contestants house seemed to be diminished. If the puppy was a human description, this boy would be it. 

"I’m taking that expression as a yes. Come on." He guided Liam out the door and down a back alley, ignoring the people waiting for autographs. Liam looked as if he just needed a bit of time to relax.

They had been walking for ten minutes when they came across an ice cream parlor that looked to be open. The bell above the door rang as they stepped in, the faint smell of sweet flavors hitting them both quickly, the middle-aged man behind the counter sighing as the two new customers walked towards the queue. There were a few people here and there, the odd couple in the corner and so on, but the place was practically empty. Zayn paid for them both, despite Liam’s constant protesting, saying he had money with him and could pay for himself. He was, putting it bluntly, ignored.

"So what’s on your mind, Liam?" They sat down by the long wall of windows, Zayn leaning his elbows against the table. 

Liam looked up at him, wooden tasting stick in his mouth. “Hm?”

"What’s on your mind?"

He slowly pulled the stick out and dug it into the small mound of vanilla ice cream in front of him. “Stuff.”

Zayn snorted. “Stuff. Sure.”

"Well…" Liam paused and leaned back in his chair, back cracking a little. "Nerves you know? You  _don’t_ know, you might not know, but when you’re in a huge, slightly international competition trying to follow your dream…you kind of…worry.”

Zayn watched as his features went from wonder to hope to worry, and by God he just wanted to reach over and hug the boy. He suddenly lost interest in his ice cream and paid full attention to Liam as he spoke.

"What do you worry about?"

"Uh…mainly what will happen afterwards. This won’t go on forever, y’know? And at any moment I can be sent home and go back to school. Honestly, I don’t want to get a bunch of half-hearted sympathy or someone making fun of me because I tried out twice and never made it far enough to satisfy them. And, really, what are the odds of me actually making it to the finals? There are so many others that should, but I’m seventeen. I really don’t have a chance."

"No need to be so pessimistic. You’ve tried out twice;  _something_ good is gonna come out of all this.”

Liam sat up a bit straighter, a form of hope in his eyes. “You think?”

"Yeah. You’re talented, Li. Don’t put yourself down so quickly."

A small smile tugged at his lips. “Thanks. But, enough about me. Let’s hear about you. The only thing I know about you is that your name is Zayn, and that’s from the walk over.”

He leaned forward, ankles crossing under his chair. “What would you like to know about me then?”

"Anything," he shrugged. "Whatever you think will interest me."

Zayn thought for a moment. Something that would interest him…  “I dunno, really.”

"Well, how old are you?"

"Twenty."

"Twenty," Liam repeated tastefully. "So you’ve obviously graduated from high school. Are you in Uni?"

"Yeah. I go to art school. But obviously not currently cause I’m working here, but they’re giving me extra credit."

"So, basically you’re an artist."

"Yeah." He rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, revealing his countless tattoos. 

"Woah…your parents are ok with you having so many?"

Zayn shrugged. “Dunno. Most of them have meaning, some I just liked the style. But I was more interested in cartoons and art than anything else when I was younger, so I have a bit of a gallery to carry around with me. Drew up most of these as well.”

Liam reached over and ran his ringers over the half sleeve on Zayn’s right arm. “I’ll admit, these are really cool.”

"Have you ever thought of getting any?"

"A few, but not until I’m a bit older. I have to figure out what I want first. But I’m not gonna get like…giant ass wings on my back."

"Don’t give me the idea," Zayn joked. "Because that would look  _really_ cool.”

"Are you saying that you have more than just sleeves?"

He nodded. “Yep. A wolf on my leg, a bird on the back of my neck, and an antique handgun on my left hip.”

"Handgun?"

"Yeah. Don’t think differently of me, but the design was beautiful. Honest."

Liam nodded. “I believe you. So what else?”

"About my tattoos?"

"No. Do you have any artwork?"

"Oh-yeah. Here." He quickly opened his phone and opened the tab that had his account with all of his work that was to be sold. "You can just scroll through there."

They were silent for a few minutes as Liam ventured through his work, commenting every so often about how incredible they were. 

"Liam, just answer one question for me."

"Sure. Fire away."

Zayn held in a breath before asking, “Why the Bieber haircut?”

Liam just started laughing and shook his head while he ruffled his hair nervously. “Dunno…it’s what I fancied. But I’m cutting it as soon as this is all over. I actually can’t stand it.” 

Zayn laughed right along with him, and soon the owner was closing shop. They headed back towards the contestants house, hands brushing against each other every now and again which made Zayn’s heart pound harder in his chest. Why was he such a girl? And  _why_ did he have to have a crush on Liam? It would never actually work out.

After dropping Liam off that night, Zayn stayed up for three hours with his sketch book, drawing and blending strokes across the page which eventually turned into a collage of Liam on stage performing. 

He really was a girl. 

*

The weeks following knocked off each contestant one by one, until there were only four acts left. The relationship between Liam and Zayn had also escalated, and when he wasn’t rehearsing, Liam was usually found with the older boy. They spent as much time as they could, getting to know each other and just messing around a bit. Liam had also begun to help with the backdrops for his performances.

Zayn was currently in an empty room in the studio building using the free time to spray paint a few canvases. His mask and gloves were on, there was rock music playing on his laptop behind him, and he was completely content. He tested the green on the sheet that he had out before dragging it over the extra large canvas. Truthfully there was no sure idea where as to how the canvas was gonna turn out, because Zayn was just playing by ear and adding as he went along. 

There was a knock on the door and he looked up smiling beneath the mask when Liam walked in. He pulled it off, using the remote to turn the music off.

"Hey," he greeted breathlessly, tossing the plastic gloves to the side.

"Hi." Liam sat down next to him, putting a paper plate with a paper towel atop it between them. "Managed to grab an extra sandwich from the canteen." 

Zayn picked one up, mumbling a full-mouthed “thanks”.

"What are you working on?" Liam leaned over and examined the canvas, still wet and glistening with paint.

"Random crap. Been meaning to have you choose one to keep."

The younger boy looked up at him in disbelief. “Really?”

"Yeah. Something to jazz up your room here a bit."

"Thanks, Zayn."

"No problem." He pushed his sandwich aside and picked up a can of spray paint. "Wanna try?"

"No. I’ll ruin it."

"Eh, like I said; it’s a bunch of crap. C’mon, even a little line or a smiley face."

Hesitantly, Liam reached over and grabbed the can from Zayn. He studied the tab at the top for a few long seconds before pressing down on it. Unfortunately, he hadn’t checked if the sprayer was aimed at the canvas directly. It wasn’t. In fact, it was aimed unknowingly at Zayn’s arm, which resulted in his left wrist being covered in bright red paint.

"Li," Zayn laughed. "You have absolutely terrible aim!"

"I’m sorry," Liam got out between chuckles. "I didn’t look."

Zayn, by now had snatched the can out of his hand and pointed it at Liam’s upper forearm. “There. Now we’re even.”

"Well…" Liam took another can and sprayed some paint into his and before rubbing it across Zayn’s stubbled cheek, streaking an electric blue.

"That’s not fair," the artist exclaimed, smudging more across Liam’s nose and under-eye. 

Five minutes later Liam stated that they both looked like tricolored Dalmatians. By now, Zayn had grabbed a napkin and began to dab at Liam’s upper cheek in attempts to lessen the blue paint stain. However, it just made the color matte. 

Zayn slowed his actions and his eyes trailed up slightly to meet with Liam’s rich brown ones. His smile faded and his face changed into a look of…wonder. He flickered down to look at Liam’s lips. But he shouldn’t. He shouldn’t be looking at him like this, or thinking about him like this. Liam had better things to focus on, for instance the lingering performance he hand coming up tonight, and the result show tomorrow. He had to focus so that he could perform well and make it to the finals next week. 

But to Zayn, that didn’t matter right now.

He leaned in and kissed him, no explanation, slowly so the other boy had time to pull away if he wanted. But he didn’t . Liam kissed relaxed, leaning back towards the carpeted floor as Zayn brushed a soft hand through his hair, supporting his back. Liam’s arms wrapped around his neck, eyes closed. If you asked him, Zayn would say that it was the best kiss he’d ever had. Hands down. 

And it was made better when the crinkly-eyed smile was shown seconds after they pulled away.

*

Liam made it though to the XFactor finals. He made it.

And Zayn hugged him tightly, kissing his temple and promising that he’d do excellent. Of course Liam would have to crack down and practice several songs and work harder than he’s ever worked before, but that was to be expected. 

The week following, not only did they both have to work hard, but Zayn met Liam’s family. They took a minute aside and for a panicking mid-crisis trying to figure out what they would tell his parents their relationship actually  _was._ In the end, they both agreed on-

"Boyfriends."

"Boyfriends."

And Liam’s parents were fine with that. In fact, over the moon about it, which made the huge weight lift off of Zayn’s shoulders in an instant that allowed him to release the most refreshing breath he ever had. He hugged Liam just before his father pulled him aside.

Geoff: “How old are you, Zayn?”

Zayn: “Twenty, sir. Twenty-one in January.”

Geoff: “You realize that he’s only seventeen, and you both have the entire world ahead of you?”

Zayn: “Yes, sir.”

Geoff: “But do you promise to take care of my son?”

Zayn: “Absolutely. I wouldn’t dream of doing otherwise.”

With that statement in mind, Liam’s father put a hand on Zayn’s shoulder and smiled. “I know you won’t.”

He then spent that entire week watching Liam’s rehearsals (when the would allow him), and working on backdrops. Occasionally, they’d catch a few minutes break and spend time together. Chris would make fun of him, but after a smack upside the head, the snide remarks lessened and they got back to work. 

It was part one of the finale, and Liam was  _shaking._ Zayn held him tight and rocked him back and forth while Liam pressed his face into his chest, mumbling about how nervous he was, and how he swore he did awful and wasn’t gonna make it.

"Liam, you did wonderfully. Please take a deep breath, ok? You’re alright."

"I’m scared. I messed up, and some critic is gonna spot it."

"Yeah, but the judges didn’t."

"So? They’re not the ones that go off and chose the winner. People at home vote. But they definitely heard my voice crack or something…"

"Don’t think about it. There are much worse things."

*

An hour later, after more performances, Liam going out once again and performing another song, guests, a look back through the season, and everything else, the acts going through to the second part of the finale were announced. From where Zayn stood in the isle in the audience with Liam’s family and Chirs, palms pressed together in front of his lips, whispering prayers of hope for the boy he cared  _so_ much for. 

There was a closeup of Liam on the screen behind the contestants, and his lips were pursed, eyes closed for a long few seconds. Zayn could see the fear in his eyes, all thoughts of never being able to have the career he’s always dreamed of when the all ended. He wished he could race up on stage and hug him tight as the silence lingered.

And then Liam’s head fell to look at the floor in despair, before tossing back and his hands folded over his eyes. Mounds of boos and shouts of protests from the audience shattered through Zayn’s ears, the host trying to talk to Liam over the sound. As soon as Liam had finished, he was guided off the stage and started crying before out of sight. Zayn bolted down the aisle towards the backstage area, dodging security.

"Liam!" 

He rushed over to the boy, hugging him tightly. He kissed his head, whispering to him as Liam cried into his chest.

"I told you, Zayn…I told you."

"Shh…relax for a bit, please." 

The remained like that for ten minutes, nuzzling into his neck, Liam’s nose pressed into Zayn’s shoulder. 

*

"Zayn…?"

They were tucked into Zayn’s bed three hours later, Liam curled into his side as he traced over the tattoo on his collarbone. 

"Hm?"

"We’re-we’re not gonna  _end,_ right?”

Zayn smiled at Liam and nodded. “If you want us to.”

"Is it possible? We live pretty far away…"

"I’ll come and visit. I promise. And we can work something out."

He turned and kissed the younger boy gently, happy he accepted the job. Happy he’d met Liam.

*

For the years that followed, Liam was signed and gained his dream of being a singer. Zayn’s artwork got accepted into several galleries in London, Manchester, Birmingham, and even New York, Glasgow, and Dublin.

Seven years later, with their ups and downs, Zayn would come home every day to Liam, and whisper how much he loved him, and how talented he thought he was whenever the boy he fell in love with felt down. 

It was perfect.

 

**Author's Note:**

> You can request a oneshot on my Tumblr larry-larryx.tumblr.com/submit
> 
> Please read the guidlines before submitting.


End file.
